


Champagne Spin

by Nemamka



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Grand Prix Final Banquet, I know which tag you're looking at, Kissing, M/M, POV Multiple, Spin the Bottle, because I only wrote this so I could write kisses lol, but it is crack, but pls don't worry I don't ship all of these things, it's only the boys I'm sorry tho, shifting pov, there's a teensy bit of angst at the end immediately resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10956765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemamka/pseuds/Nemamka
Summary: Spin the bottle fic, because I wanted to make everyone kiss. That's it.Crack-ish (???) fic, but I think I took it too seriously lol





	Champagne Spin

People were leaving in small groups, taking the chatting and laughter with them, lowering the buzz of the room one skater after the other. Some of the lights were turned back on so everyone could watch their steps and wave their goodbyes at the door. The disco ball kept slowly spinning, scattering dim spots of color on the mess they had left behind; empty bottles and sandwich trays on the tables, champagne glasses fallen over, and plastic cups lying around everywhere, more and more of them in one place as you got closer to the DJ stand. The boy behind it was still keen on setting up the next song when he heard his own name. 

“Hey, Otabek! Come on down, we can’t dance anymore.” 

“Yeah, let’s play!” 

Otabek frowned, suspicious at why Giacometti was smiling like _that_ , but he put his headphones down. Instead of what he had planned he started a pre-set playlist, and turned down the volume, matching the calm after-banquet atmosphere somewhat better. He got down from the small stage and joined the circle the remaining skaters had formed. 

“What are we playing?” 

“These idiots came up with the brilliant idea,” Yuri Plisetsky growled before anyone else could answer, “to play spin the bottle.” 

“And so far you’ve had no objection…” Jean-Jacques pointed out. 

“Shut up! I just want to see your embarrassed faces and blackmail you with pictures in the future.” 

“Spin the bottle?” 

It was not like Otabek didn’t know how the game went, but when he looked around he was slightly amused at the strange group gathered to play it. There was Katsuki, Nikiforov, Plisetsky, Lee, Giacometti, Chulanont, Leroy, Popovich, Ji, and de la Iglesia; to think about some of them kissing was ridiculous, and others, well... unnerving. Then he caught a glimpse of a pair of green eyes in the lineup, and his stomach did an unfamiliar little flip. 

“Wanna opt out, eh?” came a voice from his right, preventing him from staring too long just in time. He mumbled his answer as impassively as he could. 

“Just think it’s strange, is all.” 

“Okay…” Christophe cut in, and he put a big, empty champagne bottle on the floor in the middle of their circle. “Let’s start, shall we?” 

And so it began; they all settled down on the floor and looked at the bottle, the green glint of it carrying an enigma for them all. And then everybody just… waited. 

“Um.” Georgi said. 

“Who wants to start?” Phichit offered, winking at Yuuri and making him want to sink between the wooden tiles of the floor. 

“I’ll start!” JJ was already reaching for the bottle, rising from his heels. 

“Wait, no,” Chris butted in, “Is everyone okay with the rules?” 

“Rules?” Seung-Gil raised an eyebrow, seemingly bored to the core. Or maybe he was appalled by what he expected Giacometti to define as rules, if Otabek had to guess. 

“Kissing.” Phichit beamed, positively excited about the game. “That’s it, right? You have to exchange a kiss with whomever you spin.”

“Whatever kind feels comfortable,” Yuuri added in a low but firm voice. The others nodded, and Chris spoke again.

“And I think Viktor should start.” 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s the oldest,” Yuri snickered. 

“And the wisest,” Georgi added theatrically. 

Even Otabek had to smile at Yuuri’s sudden shift; he visibly couldn’t stop himself, supporting his weight on one hand next to Viktor’s thigh, he leaned close to him. By a whisper in his ear an incredibly wide smile spread on Viktor’s lips and he nodded, the previous mockery not even close to touching his nerves. 

“Right then.”

He sent the bottle spinning, its faint clinking noise raising anticipation, its head pointing at each person of the group at least a dozen times, round and round before it finally began to slow down. 

Viktor looked at the faces it passed. Phichit watched it go with a smile; Chris narrowed his eyes as if to stop the bottle with the Force, but then he accepted his fate. Seung-Gil didn’t show any emotion, but his face darkened and darkened and _darkened_ and it seemed like he _really_ had the Force, willing the bottle forward. That was how…

“EW!” Yuri wailed—quite a painful experience to Viktor’s left ear—and physically drew further away from the group and the bottle, like it personally offended him. “If you touch me, old man, I’ll kill you!” 

The others bit their tongues, waiting out how this was going to go down. Yuri turned away and even squeezed his eyes shut; Viktor simply laughed. He knew the boy more than anybody in the room, he recognized his teenage anti-affection bursts. With the dexterity of a cat he bent over, and planted the shortest smooch right on top of the golden hair. 

Yuri froze. He waited for a few seconds, but when nothing else happened, he opened his eyes and found Viktor smiling expectantly at him. The small spot on his head was tingling, he couldn’t help but scratch it. He would never tell anyone, not for the world, that he didn’t mind that piece of brotherly affection that much. Scooting back to his place in the circle he kept up his scowl, which was the safest option to hide that he was just a little bit moved. 

“Yeesh, is it over? Now that should be enough for years, thanks very much.” 

“Alright, alright. Spin.” 

When he reached for the bottle he wanted to shoot a challenging look at everyone; however, he kind of stopped at the first person who locked eyes with him. The Kazakh boy glared back at him and his hand on the glass, but then he turned away so quickly Yuri heard his neck crack. He did look around this time; Katsudon attempted a comforting smile, which only gave his face a strange, concerned look; Phichit was glancing left and right trying to figure out the incident as if he were watching a tennis match. 

Yuri gritted his teeth. He didn’t know what Altin’s problem was, but now he wished the bottle wouldn’t stop pointing at him. He used much more force than he might have needed to, so they waited a lot of turns until the clinking stopped again… at a much worse option, to Yuri’s mind. 

“OH, COME ON! Who’s next, fucking JJ?!” 

“ _Ey_!” 

“I’m definitely not kissing _you_!” 

He pointed at the bottle’s next choice, infuriated; Christophe rolled his eyes.

“Aw, don’t worry, my darling, you’re too small to be my type. Give me your foot.” 

“My _what_?!”

“Just stretch out your leg, come on. I won’t bite it.”

“I WILL kick you in the face.” 

“I just want to pay tribute to what an amazing skater you are!” 

Yuri was flabbergasted, but then… though with a snarl, he complied. Christophe reached forward, gently took his right heel in his palms and in front of Seung-Gil’s scandalized face he kissed Yuri’s ankle, then let it go, as softly as putting a prince’s down on a pillow. 

“Your legs deserve to be kissed, golden boy.” 

“Yes, you are amazing,” Katsudon praised out of nowhere, then joined in on the quiet clapping from his right; in fact everyone did. Yuri pulled his leg back and crossed it with the other, biting his lips and hiding behind his locks. He was speechless, but smiling; god forbid anyone see that, though. To his relief, instead of prying, the group went on. 

“Ooh, I’m excited,” Christophe purred as he nudged the bottle’s neck with only two fingers, and looked at each and every one of them with a seductive smile. His last one was met with an immediate gasp and cherry red cheeks, as the glass went silent. 

“Oooh, boy.” Chris looked up at Viktor. “You really don’t mind, do you?” 

It was a futile question, since the couple wouldn’t have been sitting there had they not agreed to the rules. Viktor’s hand flew up to cover his mouth in fear of bursting out with laughter; he raised an eyebrow at Yuuri who cleared his throat and with an unreadable expression, he climbed forward on his knees to fulfill his destiny. 

Christophe met him in the middle, the champagne bottle lying between them, their chests and noses lining up real close. The wine-brown eyes captured his and Christophe could feel his face heat up, blushing deeper red than Yuuri at this point. He drew a shaky breath and waited, uncharacteristically hesitant; he looked at the black brows, the cheekbones, the lips—he swallowed—and then the beautiful irises again. He shivered when Yuuri reached up and ran his hand through his hair, millimeters separating their mouths… He didn’t care who was looking, he involuntarily imagined the skater in the Eros costume and… And the devilish smile surprised him like that program had never before.

He heard Phichit’s whistle in the background, and the distraction left him even less time to react. Fingers tightened in his short strands, pulling his head back. His mouth fell open, eyes widening as Yuuri pressed his lips onto his neck, soft, wet, but hot, and so, so painfully short. 

Before Chris’s soul could even return to his body, Yuuri was already sitting back next to Viktor, who was still watching him, silent laughter shaking his shoulders. 

“Oh my god,” he chuckled, struggling for air. “Yuuri, you’ve ruined him.” 

Chris whimpered, rapidly blinking away his stun. 

“Wow. Not fair… but… _wow_.” 

Some of them were snickering, sharing Viktor’s amusement over his friend’s demise. Chris managed to gather himself, sighing dramatically, staring into the void; but when he looked up again, his face eased into a smile and they laughed at each other with Yuuri. 

“And that is all you’re ever going to get.” 

“And I am more than okay with that for a lifetime. Thank you, truly. Your turn.” 

“Right.” 

Yuuri spun, and giggled when he saw Viktor crossing his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut and muttering under his nose. If he was honest to himself, Yuuri hoped to “have to” kiss him, too… Not that he didn’t, all the time, actually, but there was just something more exciting about it like this, doing it in the game. He also just now started to realize what he had done to Chris, and he felt his heart beat in his throat… What if he had just raised the others’ expectations for him demonstrating such Eros? Oh god, why did he do that… But the bottle turned and slowed down, and the head of it stopped, pointing in the opposite direction. 

“Yuuri!”

“Phichit-kun!” 

The tension dropped from his shoulders. Kissing his best friend was the second best case scenario after his fiancé. Phichit knew him best, and he certainly wouldn’t judge him, no matter how daring he was one moment and shy the next. Everything was fine, whew. 

“Come, you beautiful person, you!” 

Actually, Phichit didn’t even wait for him to move; he _leapt_ up to him and embraced him in a bone crushing hug, his glasses pressing hard into his own nose and Phichit’s chest. Yuuri wrapped his arms around him with a muffled laughter, then looked up as his best friend pulled away. Phichit took his face into his palms and kissed his forehead, long and firm, with an inevitable smooch sound effect. 

“I love you!” 

He was practically yelling, and Yuuri mirrored his thousand watt smile. 

“I love you too!” 

“Awww!” 

He received another nuzzling squeeze, and heard Viktor chuckle affectionately as Phichit hurried back to his place for his turn. 

“That was the nicest thing I’ve ever seen,” Guang-Hong said, barely louder than the glass noise on the floor.

Phichit smiled and waited; it was almost as exciting as skating. Who could it be? He loved everyone in this group. He could imagine kissing anyone. He wanted to kiss everyone! And make them happy! They all deserved love, _ah, such a thrill_! He took a deep breath, and the next person waaas… the one next to him. He didn’t expect to be so caught off guard as he was. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh,” Christophe looked at him, slightly surprised himself. His expression smoothed into something softly seductive; he lowered his eyelids and a half smile appeared on his lips. They fully turned to face each other and he reached out. “Can I…?” 

Phichit nodded, and Chris ran a finger down his jawline, stopping it under his chin and pulling it upward just a little. He could see all specks of brown in the hazel green eyes, with the impossibly long lashes, before Chris closed them and he did his own. He felt a warm, delicate kiss on his lips, and he returned it, pressing back with similar gentleness. 

Christophe let go of him and they pulled apart, smiling. 

“That was…” Phichit started, but scratched the back of his head in rising embarrassment instead of finishing. 

“Nice,” Chris offered, and he nodded.

“ _Niiiice_!” Leo agreed with them, very loudly, and some approving hums waved around the circle. 

Christophe was glad about that little nod. Those black eyes were undeniably intriguing. Oh, indeed, but he sighed and turned back to the bottle. 

“Me again.” 

And so it spun on, and on, every round a different kind of anticipation in the air; what sort of kiss would be Chris’s third? 

“Ugh, god,” Yuri pretended to be puking, as if he expected the worst spectacle in his life when the bottle stopped and pointed at Viktor. 

“Ah, both of The Couple in one night… I must be dreaming!” 

More of them groaned awkwardly at hearing that than who did not, but Leo laughed.

“Oh stop it, Chris!”

“Don’t worry, kids,” he scooted forwards, and waited for the other man to do the same. “If we did _that_ , you couldn’t handle it. We won’t ruin you with that much hotness.” 

Viktor rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.

“He’s right, you know.” 

They knelt close to one other, then pressed a kiss on each other’s cheeks, one, two, and three, left, right, and left again. Then came a hug, and as Viktor patted his back, over his shoulder Chris could see Yuuri affectionately smiling at them. He pulled back, but put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder for just one moment.

“I love you, my man.” 

“I adore you, Christophe.” 

“I know.” 

Giggling, they crawled back to their places, and Viktor spun again; he looked up to the ceiling, theatrically sending some kind of prayer to the skies, deliberately not looking at his fiancé—he heard him chuckle anyway, and he was glad to make him cheerful—or the floor. The entire group went _awww_ with one single familiar _blergh_ barely disturbing the delight. He peeked down; his prayers have been answered. The bottle had chosen Yuuri. 

He practically decked the man with his mouth. He cradled his head in his arms, just like that one time on the ice, and laid him down on the floor, kissing him hard. Yuuri held onto him and laughter shook him, uncontrollably; Viktor fought his own amusement down because he knew that if he didn’t, he would have to break contact, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Yuuri slowly calmed down, too, his hand sliding into Viktor’s hair, pulling him closer. It turned into such a deep, tender kiss that Viktor forgot where they were, what they were about to do, or that there was even a tomorrow after this. Who cared about such things when this year, this banquet was so much different than the last two. He had spent more than a year pining after the man he was seeing, smelling, touching, kissing, _feeling_ in every way today… 

Two more hands on his shoulders were quite disconcerting, though.

“Wha… hey!!!”

“Enough.” 

It was Otabek and Yuri who dragged him off the love of his life with joint force and put him back in his place. Flustered, he brushed his hair back from his eyes and glanced up at the others while Yuuri sat up next to him. 

“Um.” 

Yuuri felt embarrassed, but he also couldn’t hold his smile back. He was willing to put that kiss on the list of the best in his life so he didn’t regret it at all. He cared about not making the others uncomfortable, or not making them wait, but he just couldn’t… possibly feel too bad for feeling so good. Not when his best friend was holding his hands up, forming a heart shape with his fingers and squinting at him and Viktor, framing them with love. Not when more of them were smiling than who were not. Not when he looked down as Viktor gently laced their fingers together, his eyes so full of devotion in spite of having been hauled by annoyed teenagers. 

“I’m just gonna…”

“Spin, please,” JJ drawled. 

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat and spun the bottle with his free hand. It was strange to keep playing after that, to say the least, but they were still here to just have fun, after all. He took a deep breath and tried to brace himself to be able to look his friends in the eye again without being incredibly awkward. The green glass glinted two more times before its mouth halted in front of Leo. 

“Oh! Yuuri Katsuki,” he held out his hands expectantly, so after a bit of initial shock at the enthusiasm Yuuri took them, and listened. “I’m honored that I got to know you. I love what you do on the ice, especially your arm movements. So graceful! Let me just… express my appreciation.” 

Yuuri was astonished by such adoration; his mouth fell open as Leo bowed a little, and gently kissed the back of his hands. He smiled as he let go of him, and the group clapped again. Yuuri took a deep bow. 

“My god, thank you.” 

Leo nodded once more, and sent a bright smile around as the applause quieted down. Then he turned his attention on the bottle, and spun it with his fingers crossed. 

“Ooh, look at that, Leo has someone specific on his mind!” 

“Hah, I’m pretty sure it’s not you, Giacometti.” 

“I am perfectly aware of that, Leroy, and if you weren’t so dull, you would know it too.” 

“Excuse me…?!” 

The spinning stopped, and no one cared about JJ anymore. Leo heard Guang-Hong _squealing_ next to him, and his heart was suddenly beating very, very fast. He looked at the boy; he had buried his face in his hands, and Leo looked around, confused. Everyone was silent, but the faint music was still audible in the background. Yuuri made an encouraging gesture that he understood as something like “talk to him,” and he pulled himself together.

“Guang-Hong?” 

The boy peeked through his fingers, and his ears were so red, Leo thought it was the cutest he’d ever seen him. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey…” Guang-Hong answered, barely a whimper. Leo stared at him in awe; he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to force anything, and the other boy didn’t move… 

“It is okay if you don’t want to kiss,” Otabek’s stoic voice came from his right, and the others hummed in approval. 

But then Guang-Hong lowered his hands.

“It’s not that, I just…” 

He bit his lips as he looked at Leo; his eyes sparkled and Leo found himself holding his breath. He remembered what a coward he had been the night they had gone out for hot pots and he condemned himself. He wanted a chance with this cute guy! He was so creative and imaginative, and he skated with such charming elegance… Why was he looking so adorable…?

“You guys like each other,” Georgi said, his voice as smooth and fond as if he were talking about his own love. “Don’t you?” 

Leo watched Guang-Hong turn even redder than before, but the boy nodded, and he didn’t need any more courage. He simply leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. 

It didn’t last long, but Guang-Hong felt like there were little birds trying to escape from under his ribs. His first kiss! His first kiss his first kiss his first kiss… 

When Leo pulled back with a smile, the group burst into cheers; Georgi swooned, and so did Phichit; Chris clapped for them a little more; Viktor threw his hands in the air, and even Yuri was nodding at them with an Obama-esque _not bad_ expression. Guang-Hong chuckled in embarrassment, but most of his nervousness melted away. The glow in Leo’s eyes assured him that they would definitely talk about this after the game. When he imagined holding his hand, the butterflies quadrupled in his stomach. 

Not wanting to ruin anyone’s fun, though, he quickly turned back towards the middle of the circle, and spun. The bottle only turned a couple of times before coming to a halt. 

“The guy’s just had a kiss from his _crush_ ,” JJ remarked. “You sure you wanna do this to him?” 

“Oh my god, Jean-Jacques, shut up,” Seung-Gil recited in a colorless tone.

Being next, he moved closer and Guang-Hong did the same; he knew the other’s face would stay expressionless, but he also saw the willingness in his posture sitting on his heels and waiting for him, calm and composed. Guang-Hong bent forward, and with the slightest touch he rubbed their noses together. 

“Ah! A kunik!” Viktor beamed. 

“Almost,” Seung-Gil corrected him as he sat back on the floor. 

He answered Guang-Hong’s kind smile with a nod, and then spun the bottle with measured force. It was the same math as making his body spin in the air or with one foot on the ice. He knew how many turns it would take, as he knew exactly who it would point at. The choice was of his own, not of physics; there was only one person he actively wanted to kiss in that room, and that boy… That boy was someone he had never imagined calculating into his life. Yet he definitely didn’t want him to be a _variable_. 

“Oh, it’s me!” Phichit smiled, and little dimples appeared on his face, his eyes crinkling up. He looked absolutely delighted, his cheerful voice an addition Seung-Gil found himself drawn to, every single time. 

Giacometti even moved a little out of the way for their sake, and they slid close to each other on their knees. 

“You don’t mind this?” Phichit asked, examining his face with that curious expression that made the tension drop from his brows. 

“No.” 

“Cool!”

The excitement was so audible in Phichit’s voice that Seung-Gil almost felt like laughing. He tilted his head, and their lips touched; he closed his eyes at the warmth of it. It was the first time he’d experienced such a feeling. Phichit radiated some kind of bliss that was impossible to defy. His joy inevitably and irrevocably started dripping into Seung-Gil’s veins, and though he knew it was impossible, he thought he finally got to know what it felt like when people say their heart skipped a beat; he pressed a little closer, then let go. 

Phichit chuckled as the others applauded them, but then almost everyone gasped simultaneously; Seung-Gil smiled. The corners of his mouth were definitely curling upwards. 

“That’s some character development,” Chris said as the boy sat back next to him.

“Holy shit, what did you do to him,” Yuri mumbled, then immediately received a “Language!” from Viktor. “Shut up, old man!” 

Phichit laughed, and he actually had to think for a moment. He studied Seung-Gil’s face; the boy was still looking rather neutral instead of sulky, as if he’d stopped clenching his jaw or something. He made just the tiniest, tiniest shrug while sending him a smirk, and Phichit was reeling inside. He really had to make an effort not to start flailing his arms. 

As the bottle was spinning, he thought back about that wanting to kiss everyone feeling. Well, it was still there, but now it was different. Kissing Chris was nice, but Seung-Gil… He wouldn’t have minded if the bottle chose him again. Phichit realized just then that making the boy smile felt very similar to standing on top of a podium. He couldn’t wait to talk to him after the game. Maybe take pictures, though he would respect if he doesn’t want to… 

The clinking stopped, and he heard somebody scoff. 

“Ah, Otabek!” Phichit grinned, and he was glad to find that as the boy raised his eyes at him, he gradually furrowed his brows a little less. 

“Hah, Otabek and kissing?” JJ cut in. “Yeah, right!” 

That had an effect no one was quite prepared for; Altin shot an angry glare at the fellow skater, then turned all his attention on Phichit, coming to meet him in the middle of the circle. There was only one second of hesitation in the Kazakh boy’s eyes; otherwise they were glowing with such fierceness he’d only ever seen when he was skating for his country. Phichit recognized that feeling all too well; it was pride.

This wasn’t a dinner invitation he could ignore, this wasn’t a situation he could walk away from just to annoy Leroy. They were already playing the game, and Jean-Jacques mocked him in the middle of it. Otabek was hurt and he was going to show everyone what he was made of, not just because of the sassy remark. But because he heard that little scoff from the other direction, too. 

He went on with what he knew; pure and raw actions, and Phichit let him. With a subtle nod, he signaled _go on_ , leaning closer as Otabek put a hand on the side of his neck. He kissed him bold and firm. 

It was quick, quick enough that he wouldn’t have time to get embarrassed, or use too much of Phichit’s good will, and he was back in his place before his hands would start trembling. Leo and Christophe both whistled and sent him praiseful glances; Jean-Jacques laughed and made another snappy comment. Otabek faintly registered the voices but he didn’t catch a word, and didn’t even care. A pair of narrowed green eyes was staring at him as if their owner was at a battle with themselves at what to make of the scene they’d witnessed. Otabek withstood the scrutiny until the boy tore his gaze away. 

“I’m not sure what just happened,” Chris cleared his throat. “But do continue.” 

Otabek shook himself mentally. This was still a game, right? He took a deep breath, reached for the bottle, and sent it twirling like a hurricane. 

“I take everything back, now I want you to spin me.” 

He glared at JJ with as dead judgmental stoicism as he could, almost as long as the glass clinked on the floor. Leroy’s full teeth grin slowly faded, then disappeared; Otabek only turned away after the other had, defeated. 

But as the bottle stopped he froze, his confidence dropping and shattering. He eyed the mouth of the green glass, because his face felt hot at realizing who it was pointing at. Some of the others murmured, some gasped, and all he could do was let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Tzhk,” Yuri smirked, and slid in his direction. 

Now there was no going back, so Otabek moved closer, too; he raised his head and found the most challenging expression he’d ever seen on the boy’s face. 

He gulped and scratched the back of his head, and Yuri waited; oh, he was definitely going to wait for Otabek to make the first move. He was outright daring him to do it; if he was brave enough to show off like that with Phichit, Yuri had every chance to assume he would do the same with him. 

Maybe that was why he couldn’t bring himself to lean closer. He felt his heart beat in his throat and there was something in Yuri’s piercing scowl that stunned him and glued his feet to the floor. Guang-Hong whispered an encouraging “come on”, and he glanced in his direction to get more time—which was his big mistake. 

“Pff, fuck you.” 

Yuri pushed himself away, up from the floor and stormed out of the ballroom. 

Silence followed as his footsteps were no longer stamping the wooden tiles. Otabek realized this playlist had also stopped, and no one seemed to know what to say. He didn’t want to look at them; instead, he frowned at the champagne bottle, mourning the loss. 

“We should go,” Yuuri said in a low voice, and the others quietly agreed. 

Each of them stood up, but somehow they lingered; Otabek knew, he could feel they were exchanging worried looks and uncertain shrugs. Then someone took two steps to stand in front of him, casting a shadow, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He blinked up.

“He’ll be at the back exit. On the steps,” Viktor said with a soft smile, and offered his hand. 

Accepting his help was easy. Making good of it was an entirely different thing, but Otabek knew he would condemn himself forever if he didn’t rush after him now. He answered Viktor’s _davai_ with a nod, and took off. 

_Fuck him if he doesn’t want to kiss me_ , Yuri thought to himself, inhaling the cool air of the night, shivering as he sat on the stairs. He could tell he would freeze his butt off the minute he stepped out the back door, but he couldn’t bother, his anger didn’t let him turn back for his coat. 

_I mean, it’s okay if we’re just friends, but come on. Fuck him. Ugh, why was he such a coward when just the other day he came for me like a knight on a shining motorcycle? Fuck him. Why did he shake my hand and talk about how we had history with each other? Fuck him. Why did he help me with my exhibition skate? Why did he kiss Chulanont and not me? Why did he blush, why did he have such dark eyes, why didn’t… Ugh. Fuck. Him._

He was somewhere in the jungle of these thoughts when the door opened behind him, and he had to growl. But no matter how close he pulled his knees to his chest, trying to shut the world out and send a clear message of _fuck off_ , the other boy sat down next to him, staring at the sky. 

“What do you want?!” Yuri snarled. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Hearing that was the strangest thing for Yuri. Not many people apologized to him; usually they made _him_ apologize for some utterly trivial bullshit that no one should care about. This was trivial too, right? It was just a stupid game, he didn’t even understand why he was acting out because his _friend_ hadn’t kissed him. So why should Otabek be apologizing? 

“Whatever,” he threw the word in his direction, but he felt more and more uneasy instead of relieved. It was clear that Otabek wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. 

“Just thought the first time should be private, is all.” 

Yuri was so surprised he immediately straightened his back to look him in the eye.

“Private?” 

Otabek shrugged and looked at his feet. Him suddenly being so shy cracked Yuri up, and he couldn’t stay mad at him anymore. 

“Courteous Beka!” he laughed, teasing, but only half-heartedly. He hoped Otabek would understand the sentiment behind his words. He had not yet learned how to properly navigate around deeper feelings, especially, the subtleties of love. 

Otabek visibly struggled to keep a straight face, but the nickname cracked his mask. The boy smiled and the tension dropped from his shoulders. Yuri finally relaxed too, when suddenly he had to sneeze; but then everything turned out better than he’d expected as Otabek took off his jacket and put it around his shoulders. The warmth was calming, and the smell of leather made him feel like he was back on that motorcycle, carefree and _badass_. 

“Are you still ready to kiss me or not?” Otabek asked, only peeking at him from the corner of his eyes. _The cheeky bastard!_

“Oh, no,” Yuri turned towards him, grabbed the neck of his shirt with both hands and pulled him close. “ _You_ are going to kiss _me_.” 

And after a huff of laughter, Otabek didn’t hesitate anymore. 

Damn, what the hell had driven them to try to avoid this before? They melted in each other’s touch. Otabek’s heart didn’t flutter, it simply filled up with warmth; Yuri had never felt so much in harmony with himself as right then and there. Their contrasts met in the middle and they entwined, complementing one another. The noises of the outside world disappeared from their tranquil bubble; storms and worries cleared from their minds. They were at home. 

 

When they walked back into the building a few minutes later, they joined the rest of the group on the corridor, on their way to the elevators. The first thing they noticed was Viktor’s slightly proud smile at their interlaced fingers, and they squeezed each other’s hand, not afraid anymore. 

“This sucks,” JJ complained from the lead, oblivious to their arrival. “How come nobody spun me? It was never my turn to kiss someone.” 

Of all people, Seung-Gil spoke first, his voice deadpan.

“Well, yeah, it’s usually something else that people want to shut your mouth with.” 

Otabek couldn’t help throwing his head back in a full body laughter, followed by Chris’s chuckling. Yuri didn’t even snicker; he held out his hand, and Seung-Gil gave him a high-five.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri whispered "And the most beautiful" to Viktor :) 
> 
> (sorry about all the JJ roast lmaoo)


End file.
